


It might be nothing, but it's gotta be something

by phanjessmagoria



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ashton and Calum are like barely in this at all so, Blow Jobs, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7402297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phanjessmagoria/pseuds/phanjessmagoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before, playing each other’s guitars hadn’t seemed like anything more than just what it was. On stage, it was just something they did because they could, because it made the fans go fucking nuts, the screams doubling in volume and intensity, it seemed, every night. It was something innocent Before, but then, doesn’t everything start that way?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It might be nothing, but it's gotta be something

Before, playing each other’s guitars hadn’t seemed like anything more than just what it was. On stage, it was just something they did because they could, because it made the fans go fucking nuts, the screams doubling in volume and intensity, it seemed, every night. It was something innocent Before, but then, doesn’t everything start that way?

That was the thought that plagued Michael as he watched Luke in the green room, before the show, as he changed his shirt minutes before they were supposed to head out to take the stage. He cut it close, as Luke always tended to do, stripping his t-shirt off and replacing it with a sleeveless tank top. Michael pushed himself up from the couch he’d been nestled on, not wanting to stare at Luke, or worse—get caught staring at Luke.

Not that Luke would have minded, Michael supposed—because it was After, and it was almost like the tension between the two of them, which was nonexistent months if not weeks ago, had had enough and was quite ready to fully consume Michael. He was pretty sure that Luke felt it too, considering the way that Luke would give Michael a half-smirk if their hands happened to brush, or how Luke would sit just a little too close to him in the SUV as they were driven somewhere. The guitar-playing was what had cemented it in Michael’s mind that there was something going on between them that he’d been too reluctant or maybe too stupid to see at first. He wasn’t sure _what_ had happened to make right now an After, but it was definitely something.

Because while the fans could see them on stage, reaching across each other’s bodies to play the instrument slung around the shoulders of the other, they couldn’t feel the way Luke’s hip nudged against Michael’s as they positioned themselves side by side. They couldn’t feel the warmth that bloomed on Michael’s fingers as they accidentally brushed across Luke’s forearm or his wrist, the skin soft to the touch. It made Michael feel electrified, like Luke’s skin on his own was something his body had been longing for and his mind had only just caught up, realizing it for what it was.

So, the thought that he’d have to let Luke walk up to him, stand still as their bodies curled beside each other, and let Luke play his guitar while he played Luke’s...it was kind of fucking with him, just a little.

The four of them stood backstage, waiting for the lights to dim and the roar of the crowd to grow impossibly loud, seeming to shake the very air around them, before walking out, instruments (or drumsticks) in hand. Ashton took his place behind his drumkit, Calum and Luke both hanging back as Michael stepped forward to make his way to the piano.

Luke caught hold of his wrist, the darkness around them hiding it from Calum, but Michael glanced back at him anyway. He just looked enthused, ready to play, not like he was trying to be flirty or any type of sexual. Chalking it up to pre-show excitement, Michael just grinned back at him and scurried over to the piano just as the lights went up, the first soft notes of “Carry On” still slightly drowned out by the crowd.

He splayed his fingers out over the keys in front of him as he saw Luke and Calum join himself and Ashton on stage. Luke didn’t spare a glance back in his direction, just singing to the crowd, what sounded like every single person in the audience singing the words right back at him. Touching his wrist had just been, again, an innocent gesture, Michael decided. No matter that he could swear that he still felt Luke’s fingers around his wrist like a vice.

By the time they were three songs deep into their set, Michael had pushed everything that wasn’t related to playing a show out of his mind—the adrenaline coursing through his veins was helping with that—but whenever Luke approached him, grinning wide, the thought that tonight was going to be different for some reason popped up into his mind. He wasn’t sure why he thought so other than Luke had taken hold of his wrist before he walked onstage, which wasn’t something he’d done before, that Michael could remember—and if he had, before, then it hadn’t meant anything then, but it meant something now.

After.

Michael stepped up to his mic, eyes closed, needing to push shit like that from his mind. He needed to _focus_ , even though he could probably play most of their songs on autopilot, because he tended to get wrapped up in his thoughts and the last place he wanted that to happen was on stage in front of thousands of people, especially since “Voodoo Doll” was next and—yeah. Luke was gonna be heading over for sure.

Playing the song wasn’t the hard part—it was keeping his composure as Luke skipped over to him, facing Michael, and without even realizing that he was doing it, they were both leaning into each other, bent at the waist, strumming each other’s guitars. Michael could vaguely make out the sound of the crowd over his in-ear monitors, but he wasn’t paying it any mind. Luke’s face was too close to his for him to still be normal, but the moment was over as quickly as it started and Luke moved away from him, not without letting his arm brush against Michael’s. Luke was grinning back at him over his shoulder as he made his way back to the center of the stage, Michael’s eyes locked on him.

They finished the song, the fans in front of the stage jumping up and down, unceasing in their movement, their energy apparently limitless as the band shifted right into playing “Don’t Stop.”

Again, Michael forced himself to forget about whatever might be potentially going on with him and Luke, refusing to think that maybe he’d find out later after the show. They were, at best, a little too close for their own good; at worst, they were probably just a few semi-witty homoerotic comments away from sucking each other’s dicks. So.

Later in the set, halfway through “Castaway,” Michael caught Luke looking over at him, readying himself for their guitar battle at the end of the song, and Michael was pretty sure that if Luke looked at him like that again, they were going to have to have words. Because it wasn’t ok to just play a guy’s guitar, while being all touchy-feely, and then give him fucking bedroom eyes in the middle of a concert. It just wasn't all right.

They faced each other from opposite sides of the stage, Ashton killing it on the drums between them as Calum looked on, watching them go at it. The crowd was swelling to his right, Michael could tell without even looking, wanting nothing more than to see him and Luke play their fucking hearts out right in front of them. It passed as a blur, because all Michael could see was Luke, like tunnel-vision, focusing only on him even though he was so far away, almost across the entire stage.

They finished, the song ended, and the lights went down, the four of them leaving the stage for a moment. Michael knew he had to get back out there, by himself, to play the intro to “Jet Black Heart,” but he was just a bit more concerned with knowing what was going on in Luke’s head.

Ashton had disappeared, and he could see Calum’s back as it went around a corner, but Michael nudged Luke’s shoulder, maybe a bit too hard, but he didn’t want Luke to walk away; instead, Luke turned to look at him, lips parted slightly, about to ask what Michael wanted. Without letting him get a word out, Michael moved one hand, just to let his fingers graze over Luke’s wrist. He felt rather than heard Luke’s sharp intake of breath, and Michael immediately felt validated, knowing that he was affecting Luke just as strongly as Luke was affecting him.

Luke lifted his arm, moving his hand to pull out the earpiece nestled snug and secure in his ear so Michael could speak to him uninhibited, and as he did, the backs of his fingers moved against Michael’s arm, and Michael knew. He just knew.

“Later,” he said to Luke, unsure if he could really hear him over the din of the crowd, or see his lips in the dim backstage lighting, but before Luke could really respond, Michael had turned back around and walked back onstage, flooded in blue light.

–

“Do I have time to piss?” Michael asked, plucking his in-ears out before the encore. He wasn’t asking anyone specific, and when he looked over his shoulder, Calum was the one nearest to him. He made eye contact with Michael, then just shrugged.

“If you hurry,” he said, nodding toward one of the halls leading away, where someone, surely, could direct Michael to a toilet. He was always last offstage, simply due to his location, so he’d be lucky if the bathroom was unoccupied (or easy to find—Ashton’s reminders that he always use the bathroom before the show weren’t always heeded). Fortunately, he found the Men’s door and pushed it open, finding it completely empty.

“There you are,” Luke’s voice said from behind him, the door squeaking open again just as Michael had sidled up to one of the urinals.

“Not now,” Michael said without turning around, and he wasn’t trying to be a dick, but he really didn’t want to have this conversation for many reasons (primarily because they were in a bathroom, but also because he was kind of hoping that the whole “Why have you been touching me so much?” discussion would evolve into sloppy kissing or some heavy petting, maybe full-on sex if he was lucky).

“Then when?” Luke asked, but he didn’t sound whiny or impatient; his voice was low and quiet ( _sultry_ is the word Michael would have chosen, if pressed), and like he was genuinely eager to talk about the matter between themselves.

“As soon as we finish the encore,” Michael said, turning just a little to face Luke, because it was sort of weird to be standing by a urinal, seconds away from using it, and not at least sort of be looking at the person speaking.

“Good,” Luke said, leaving the room.

Michael emerged shortly after, his hands still a little wet from being washed, and joined Luke and Calum, waiting to head back onstage once Ashton sat back down behind his drums. They just had to get through two more songs, and then he’d be able to hash things out with Luke (or more likely suck his dick—either worked).

–

It was probably really fucking cheesy to think it every single time, but whenever Michael took the final bow of the show with his band, his heart never felt lighter. He lived for it, for the moments where the four of them could revel in the thanks and outpouring of love from their fans, but also show them appreciation too. It wasn’t just a chance for Michael and his band to be cheered for after the show was over—it was a cumulative thank you to the crowd for watching, listening, coming to see them and wait for them and support them.

Michael followed Luke offstage as Ashton hopped down into the narrow area between the stage and the barricades; Calum was probably halfway back to the dressing room already, and Ashton was most likely going to head there too, which meant that was absolutely the last place he and Luke should go.

Without bothering to think about whether it was a shit idea or not, Michael grabbed Luke’s arm and steered him into the Men’s room again, following him in and pushing the door closed behind them. It didn’t have a lock—but all they were going to do was just talk. Innocently.

“Didn’t you go before?” Luke asked, regaining his balance after stumbling just a little as Michael pushed him inside the room. It was well-lit, but the overhead lighting bathed the entire room, and the boys themselves, in wan, yellow-orange light that really wasn’t flattering; Luke checked himself out in the mirror above the sink and frowned at his reflection.

“I—We should talk.”

“About?” Luke asked, catching Michael’s eye in the mirror, not turning around to face him.

“You know,” Michael said. He was still riding his post-show high, too elated to be annoyed with Luke pretending like he no idea why they were standing in a bathroom instead of heading to the green room with the rest of their band.

Luke turned, leaning on the sink, arms crossed over his chest. “Why don’t you tell me?”

Michael laughed a little to himself, because Luke being obstinate happened more often than not, especially with him, and it only made him like being in Luke’s presence more. He closed most of the distance between himself and Luke, stopping close enough that they were well within arm’s reach of each other but far enough that it didn’t quite imply that there was some actual reason for their closeness.

“I think,” Michael said, lowering his voice to match how Luke’s sounded, earlier, “you know.”

Luke met Michael’s eyes, holding his gaze for a moment, before he moved one hand to curl around Michael’s wrist. For fuck’s sake—Michael was pretty sure that no one, in his entire life, had ever touched his wrist this much before, and now it was like Luke couldn’t stop himself from doing it as many times as he could in just one evening.

“Maybe,” Luke said, and Michael opened his mouth to argue, catching Luke’s snicker at the last moment. It made him laugh, too, because he was usually the one giving Luke a hard time, not vice versa.

“So why don’t _you_ tell _me_?” Michael said, stepping closer, trapping Luke up against the sink, the porcelain edge cutting into the backs of his thighs. Michael smirked, satisfied—shit was back to normal.

But instead of saying anything, instead of telling Michael why he’d been all too eager in touching him, instead of saying exactly why playing each other’s instruments and the aftermath of the guitar battles had seemed so heated as of late, Luke remained silent. He didn’t say a goddamn word—he just leaned in and caught Michael’s lips with his own, kissing him, forgetting that they were in a room with an unlocked door that anyone could enter, and _finally_ just shattering the tension the easiest way he knew how: with action.

If Michael was surprised, he didn’t show it—to the contrary, he went with it, kissing Luke back right away, culminating in him parting his lips probably a bit too soon, his tongue flitting out over Luke’s lower lip, trying to entice him to part them too, wanting to deepen the kiss. Luke allowed it for a moment, letting his tongue slip against Michael’s before pulling away.

Michael wished he couldn’t see his own confused, slightly disappointed reflection in the mirror over Luke’s shoulder—he hated how easy he was to read, always—but Luke’s hands found their way to his waist, his fingers firmly gripping his sides as he held Michael closeby, enough that he hopefully didn’t feel completely rejected, and echoed Michael’s words from earlier.

“Not now,” Luke said, jerking his chin to indicate something behind Michael, and he knew immediately that he was just not wanting to do this—whatever it was they were about to do—in here, where anyone could intrude.

“Then when?” Michael asked, stepping back from Luke, his hands reluctantly falling from Michael’s sides, but understanding that Michael understood now, too, and neither of them wanted to be caught in a compromising position.

“As soon as we find somewhere private,” Luke replied easily, like he’d thought it all out ahead of time, like he’d been expecting Michael to be eager too.

“Then let’s go,” Michael said, turning away from Luke, who followed close to him, ushering him out the door (nearly walking straight into one of their crew). They apologized profusely, but didn’t stick around—they hurried through the people milling about backstage, looking for any door that appeared to have a lock on it.

“That one,” Luke said, jutting his arm out and pointing at a door with a keyhole on it at the end of the corridor they were in; in doing so, he’d unintentionally linked his arm with Michael’s, but it just made them both laugh and hook their elbows together, hurrying toward the door like they were kids afraid to be caught.

Michael tried the handle; he was surprised when it actually opened. He felt along the wall for a light switch and flicked it up—illuminated, the room appeared to be a storage closet; it was lined with shelves with boxes on them and file cabinets.

“Ok, wait here,” Luke said, grinning at Michael before opening the door and slipping out, snapping it shut behind him.

“Wait—” Michael called after him, but the door was closed before he even got the word out. He pulled open the door, but he could only see Luke’s back as he ran back down the hall, toward the stage where they’d come from. “Luke!” Michael shouted, but Luke just raised one arm over his head to indicate he’d heard, and kept running.

With a loud sigh, Michael stepped back into the room and closed the door, resting his forehead against it for a moment. He felt reasonably certain that Luke was going to come back, but...why did he leave in the first place? Was he having second thoughts? Should Michael also be having second thoughts? Why did Michael always allow his mind to get so damn carried away when he shouldn’t? All were truly questions for the ages.

Straightening himself up, Michael stepped away from the door and set about exploring the room he was in instead. He tried the top drawer of the first file cabinet that he came to, but it was locked, as were the second and third drawers below it. He gave it a small kick, mostly to punish it for being even more interesting by being locked, and stepped over to a stack of boxes, piled on top of each other. He removed the cover of the top one, but it was filled with nothing but papers, what looked like old purchase orders or the like. He jammed the lid back on the box. Fuck this room. It sucked and was boring.

Michael had begun walking around the perimeter of the space, counting how many steps it took toe-to-heel to completely circle the room, when the door opened again and Luke stepped in, closing it behind himself, making sure to lock it.

“Finally,” Michael said, tone accusatory. “Where the hell did you go?”

“I had to get some stuff,” Luke said, patting the back pocket of his jeans. “And then make sure Ash and Cal didn’t follow me.”

“Did they?” Michael asked, looking at the door handle.

Luke shrugged. “Even if they did, we’re locked in, so.” He reached up to hit his palm against the door, then moved toward Michael, not stopping until their fronts were basically pressed together. He leaned in—Michael could probably have counted every single eyelash on Luke’s face if he wanted to, but instead he closed his eyes and let Luke kiss him again.

Michael moved his hands to Luke’s hips, pulling him a little closer as he stepped backward, leaning back against the cool metal of a file cabinet, their fronts completely flush now, Luke’s hips pressed tight against Michael’s, their legs slotted together. Luke’s hands moved up to cup either side of Michael’s face, not caring that Michael’s hands were exploring his body, sliding up to his lower back before dipping down to cup his ass. It was what Luke had planned on happening, anyway.

He’d just parted his lips against Michael’s when he felt two of Michael’s fingers dip into his back pocket and pull out the small bottle he’d tucked in there when Ashton and Calum weren’t looking.

“Oh, ok,” Michael said, lifting his hand to view what he was holding: Lube.

“What did you expect?” Luke asked, though now that it was all out in the open, he was a little worried Michael might change his mind, or something—he lowered his hands.

“No idea,” Michael said, which was a lie—he expected it a _little_.

“It just seemed—” Luke began, wanting to explain that he’d been feeling like this was coming for days, that the tension between them sometimes felt like it was thick enough to cut with a knife, that kissing Michael before hadn’t been a spontaneous act, but something that had been consuming his thoughts for a long time.

“Why do you even have lube?” Michael interrupted him, his laughter bubbling up out of his lungs, eyes crinkling closed at the thought of Luke going into a drugstore and buying it, or even better, that one of their crew had had to get it for him.

“Why do you think?” Luke asked, snatching it from Michael’s hand and tossing it on top of the file cabinet behind him, so he could get it later if it (hopefully) came to that.

“I mean, I can imagine so many scenarios, it’s hard to pick just one—”

“Don’t be a dick,” Luke said, leaning his weight against Michael, taking his lips in a kiss again—if Michael wanted to be an insufferable prick, then Luke was going to occupy his mouth in better, more constructive ways. Michael gave up his teasing when Luke parted his lips with his tongue, swiping it against Michael’s own as he deepened the kiss. Michael tasted sweet and his lips were soft, which Luke hadn’t expected but wasn’t sure why.

Michael’s hands returned to Luke’s hips, fingers splaying out over the fabric of his shirt, but this time he was really holding Luke, not pulling him closer with an ulterior motive. Luke did the same, moving his hands back to Michael, his left cupping his cheek again, his right on his shoulder as they kissed, slowly and softly at first. The longer it went on, though, the quicker it became, their lips parting every few seconds to join again barely a moment later at a slightly different angle. Michael slid his hands down to Luke’s ass, squeezing it, and Luke ground his hips forward into Michael’s, whimpering softly against the corner of his lips.

“Can I—?” Luke sighed softly, breath warm on Michael’s lips; he just nodded in response, not knowing what Luke was going to do, but willing to let it happen no matter what. Luke pressed another small kiss to Michael’s face, part on his lips, part on his cheek, then moved a half-step back from him, looking down between their bodies as he reached to tug the hem of Michael’s shirt up, exposing a small strip of his stomach. Luke paid his bare skin no mind and instead undid the button of his jeans, then worked the zipper down, revealing Michael’s underwear and the bulge of his dick, not fully erect just yet.

Michael kept his eyes on Luke’s face, watching as he slowly worked the waistband of his jeans down around his hips, stopping mid-thigh, the denim bunched up and tight around his legs. Luke slid his hands back up the sides of Michael’s thighs, hooking his thumbs into the elastic of his underwear, the front of which was tented a bit more now. Above Luke, out of his sight, Michael licked his lips and leaned his shoulders back against the file cabinet, his hips arched outward. Luke managed to lower Michael’s underwear about an inch, the short hair below his bellybutton peeking out, as Michael’s hands caught Luke’s wrists.

Luke glanced up, his eyes meeting Michael’s—instead of the cocky smirk he was expecting, Michael looked just a shade below “freaking out”—nervous might have been the closest word to it.

“Should I stop?” Luke asked, trying to withdraw his hands—but Michael was still holding tight to them.

“No,” he said, squeezing Luke’s arms to try to convey that he wanted him to stay where he was. “But…” Trailing off, he let go of Luke and lowered his hands, undoing Luke’s pants just the same, pushing them down over Luke’s hips too. It was harder than it seemed, pushing skinny jeans off of a person, but Michael did it as quickly as he could, and soon enough Luke was in the same position as he was.

Luke studied both of them, snickering—they looked ridiculous with their shirts still on, essentially fully clothed except for their lower bodies, where the thin cotton of their underwear wasn’t leaving much to the imagination. “We look stupid.”

“Speak for yourself,” Michael said, confidence returning now that he wasn’t the only one with his dick nearly out, and curved his palm to fit against Luke, rubbing his hand over him slowly. Luke hissed out a breath and rolled his hips forward, just a little, giving himself a bit more friction than what Michael was providing, before he had the presence of mind to tease Michael in the same way.

Using just the tips of his fingers, Luke took hold of Michael’s cock, working them down and around his length. Michael sighed, his lips parting beautifully, and then Luke was kissing him again, their lips already open for each other. It felt like all the build-up to this had been a long time coming, and now that it was happening, now that they were touching each other, they couldn’t get enough or go too fast.

Luke curled his free hand into the fabric of Michael’s underwear, pulling it down as best he could, then wrapped his hand fully around Michael’s bare, stiff cock, stroking him quickly and pulling the most gorgeous noises that he’d ever heard from his mouth. Each time Michael moaned softly against his lips, Luke couldn’t help but twitch his own lips up into a smile, wanting more from Michael, wanting to give him more in return.

He rolled his hips forward into Michael’s hand again, trying to say nonverbally that he needed just a bit more than some fondling through his underwear. Michael took the hint, letting his back rest against the cabinet behind him and pulling Luke closer, as close as he could while still leaving room to maneuver their hands between themselves. Unlike Luke, Michael stopped touching him while he continued to undress him, using both hands to expose Luke; Michael got Luke’s cock out a bit quicker than Luke had done to him. He met Luke’s eyes for a brief second before leaning forward, his lips brushing against Luke’s before kissing him again, for real, his teeth nipping softly at his lower lip.

The whisper of their hands on each other was audible in the small room, as were the soft noises their lips made each time they met or parted. Luke focused his attention on the shaft of Michael’s dick, quickly moving the circle of his fingers over his hard length, while Michael curled his thumb over the head of Luke’s cock as he jerked him off. Each time he did, the tip felt wetter with precome that Michael ended up slicking thinly over the rest of him. Luke bucked his hips forward into Michael’s hand, but instead of continuing to indulge him, Michael let go of his cock and lifted his hand to his mouth.

Luke watched, heart pounding in his ears, tongue flitting over his lower lip, as Michael licked Luke’s precome off of his thumb, humming softly before kissing him again, thrusting his own hips forward into Luke’s hand. The dripping head of his cock left a streak on the front of Luke’s hip.

“Fuck, Mikey,” Luke whined, gruff, pressing his nose to the side of Michael’s face before pulling away. The jeans around his legs didn’t allow for him to move all that well, but he wasn’t going very far to begin with—a couple of shuffled steps backward and he had enough room to drop down to his knees; his limited mobility had him hitting the floor a bit harder than he’d have liked. Michael watched as Luke held his cock steady, then Luke looked up at him, his fringe partly in the way, lips looking sinful just inches away from him.

“This is ok?” Luke asked, and Michael nodded, not giving a fuck about anything other than how Luke was about to put his fucking mouth on his fucking dick and then fucking suck it. Fuck.

Without waiting any longer, Luke took the head of Michael’s cock between his lips, tongue teasing the slit before doing anything else. Michael groaned and leaned his head back, eyes up toward the ceiling, as Luke’s lips cradled the head of his dick while his tongue flicked over the slit in the tip, giving him brief touches that were driving him out of his mind—he’d gone from no contact on the head of his dick to everything, and all the focus on it made his abdomen clench in on itself, his lower body tensing up already. He curled his hands into fists in Luke’s mop of hair, convincing himself that he could hold his orgasm back as long as Luke _did something else_.

“Luke,” Michael moaned, pulling on his hair, trying to get his mouth to move further down his length, wanting to come but wanting to wait, wanting to savor the time he had with Luke right now, in this room, because who the fuck knew when they’d get to do this again? Who the fuck knew if there even would be an again?

“Mm,” Luke hummed around Michael, the vibrations making his toes curl in his shoes, but he moved his mouth further onto him, taking more into his mouth, sucking him for real now, tongue undulating against the underside of his dick, teasing him but in a much more subdued way, not in a way that would make him come in barely any time at all.

“Are you—?” Michael asked, looking down at Luke, who was slowly stroking himself, nothing at all like the pace he was bobbing his head back and forth on Michael. Luke looked up at Michael, moving in a way Michael had never before imagined he’d ever get to see. Luke hummed again, nodding just a little in answer to Michael’s question, and the head of Michael’s cock brushed against his palate, causing him to whimper above Luke, but Michael tightened his hold on Luke’s hair, trying to pause his movements.

“Don’t wanna come like this,” Michael whined softly, unable to stop himself from circling his hips, pulling his dick from Luke’s mouth before it moved back in, his lips sliding over the length as Michael moved but held Luke firmly in place.

“Mm,” Luke murmured, nodding again, but pulling back as he did. Again, the head of Michael’s cock brushed against the roof of his mouth, catching on his upper lip as it slid from between them, and Michael pressed his palms flat against the file cabinet, using its cool temperature to try and calm himself down. He wasn’t sure if it was being with Luke, or the thrill of being in a public place, but he was already stupidly close, and as embarrassing as that was, he still loved it.

Luke used Michael’s hips as an aid to help himself roll back onto his feet, steadying himself as he regained his balance. “How do you wanna come, then?” he asked, stepping as close as he could to Michael. This time was vastly different than last time—their cocks rubbed together, Michael’s slick and wet against Luke’s, his own saliva slippery against his skin.

Michael smirked, looking about as confident as he felt, then turned a little, reaching behind him for the bottle of lube Luke had tossed onto the top of the metal cabinet. While he was angled away, Luke let his eyes travel down Michael’s profile, at the way his cock was arched away from his body, and hummed in contentment, low in his throat. Michael proffered the bottle of lube, then turned his back to Luke, knowing he didn’t have to say anything else—he’d already said everything he needed to.

Luke hooked an arm around Michael’s stomach, pulling him back first, then moving his hand to rest flat between Michael’s shoulder blades, angling his back forward. “Good?” Luke asked, making sure Michael was comfortable.

“Yeah,” Michael said, looking over his shoulder at Luke as he got himself situated behind Michael, moving one leg between Michael’s to push them a little bit further apart. He did, Luke’s foot nudging his own, until he was satisfied that they were spread enough. Michael turned his head back forward, looking down at himself, even though all he could see was his shirt pooling in midair below his body, and then his feet, with Luke’s just visible through his legs.

Luke popped the bottle of lube open, coating two fingers on his left hand with it before snapping the cap shut and placing it onto the lid of a box beside him. Using his right hand to hold Michael’s ass cheeks apart, and with his tongue between his teeth for concentration, Luke rubbed his fingers together to warm the lube before dragging his middle fingertip over Michael’s hole.

Michael shuddered, eyes slipping shut as he leaned more against the file cabinet, his forehead resting against his arms. Luke hadn’t even entered him yet and he was already trembling at what he _was_ getting.

“Do you want it, Mikey?” Luke asked, and Michael nodded, not lifting his head from where it was pressed against his arms. Even so, Luke didn’t make any effort to do anything other than circle his rim, gently working his finger in small circles, working him open gradually, either not willing to rush it or enjoying torturing him too much to move on.

“Luke,” Michael gasped after what felt like several arduous hours. “Luke,” he said again, “please, just—”

Those were the only words he was able to get out, because as soon as they left his lips, Luke angled his finger against Michael’s hole and, using the slightest bit of pressure, pushed against him. Michael took a sharp, shaky breath as Luke’s finger entered him, stretching his rim enough to accommodate it, sliding it in and out with an evenness to the rhythm that already had Michael wanting more.

“Luke,” Michael said, again, that name seemingly the only word he knew how to say anymore, probably the only word he would say until Luke gave him what he wanted.

“What?” Luke asked, pushing his finger all the way in, until the backs of his others rested against Michael’s cheeks. He moved his hand in a circle, pressing against Michael from inside, getting him from every angle—his thighs twitched as he pushed back into Luke’s hand. “You want more?” Luke said, egging him on, wanting to hear Michael say his name, use it like a swear or a prayer, use it to beg, only his intonation making it clear what he wanted.

“ _Luke_ ,” Michael said, a rough edge to it that made Luke consider it a warning that Michael didn’t want to be teased anymore.

“Ok. One second,” Luke said, continuing to fuck Michael’s ass with his finger, though each time he moved it less far, until it was inside him just up to the first knuckle. Michael clenched down on him, a small “Luke” falling from his lips.

Behind him, Luke smirked, then crooked his middle finger a bit, holding Michael’s hole open as he angled his index finger in beside the first one. He could feel Michael’s body stiffen up at the second intrusion, probably feeling the stretch and getting used to it.

Luke waited for a moment, then scissored his fingers apart, holding Michael open as he moaned, loudly, his hands folding up into fists against the metal of the file cabinet. He lifted his head to look back at Luke, who met his eyes—Michael already looked blissed out.

“You good?” Luke asked, letting his fingers settle back together, giving Michael a respite before he tried to loosen him further.

“Yeah,” Michael said, sounding breathless. “I don’t—I can’t get them in as deep as you can,” he confessed.

“Do you like it?” Instead of spreading his fingers inside of Michael’s hole, Luke pushed both of them further into Michael, fucking him slow and deep. Michael’s voice started off as a whimper that grew into a whine, then a groan, and finally a deep moan as Luke moved his fingers all the way into Michael, as far as he could get them, and _then_ opened them up, beginning to move them out, stretching him from deep inside.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Michael nearly growled at him. “Luke.”

“I know,” Luke whispered, his right hand resting on Michael’s hip, rubbing it softly as he fingered him with his left, trying to help keep him relaxed. “Just one more,” he continued, moving his right hand up to rub Michael’s lower back. “Then you’ll be ready.” He kept his hand moving up over Michael’s back, petting him as he moved it, fingers threading through his hair, brushing it back, away from his face, when Michael turned to look at him again.

“Give me,” Michael said, forgetting to use full sentences, just wanting to get his point across as quickly as he could.

“Ok, baby,” Luke muttered, low enough that it was possible Michael couldn’t hear him use the pet name, and reached for the lube. He pulled his fingers out most of the way, Michael’s hole loose around them after being stretched with two fingers for as long as he was, then dripped some lube out of the bottle directly onto his hand—it would slick his fingers up as he moved into Michael again.

Pushing all three fingers together, Luke moved them back into Michael, watching his hole open as he did. It was tight, and Luke knew that if he rushed this he’d fuck everything up, but Michael wanted it, which meant it was Luke’s job to take it slow, and take care of Michael.

“You’re ok?” Luke asked, just to be sure, as his fingers slid further and further into Michael.

“Yes,” Michael said, vehement but quiet.

“Ok,” Luke said, absently, not really thinking about the words coming out of his mouth as he watched Michael’s ass take his fingers, just swallow the three of them up fully. He waited a moment once they were inside of him, then spread them apart slowly, making Michael tense up around him, his thighs trembling even more forcefully now.

“Too much?” Luke stopped what he was doing, not opening his fingers wider, but instead leaving them as they were, Michael’s body wound tight—he could feel it.

“No,” Michael said. “Yes. I don’t—”

“Ok,” Luke murmured, rubbing Michael’s hip with his palm again, stroking it to appease him. “I’ll go slower.” He closed his fingers, opting to move them in and out of him again instead of stretching him.

“Luke,” Michael sighed, and Luke could already feel his body relaxing, getting used to having something moving inside him; he just needed to keep his shit together, keep working Michael open slowly. It wasn’t something urgent, really, so he should have been taking his time anyway. They both deserved to revel in each other.

Luke moved slowly, pushing his fingers all the way into Michael before slowly drawing them out, only quickening his pace when Michael pushed back against his hand, asking for more with his body. He leaned closer over Michael, changing the angle of his fingers inside him, and curled them just a little, searching for his prostate, unsure if he’d be able to find it.

Michael groaned as Luke bent his fingers inside of him, apparently understanding what he was doing, only growing slightly louder as Luke began to pull his fingers out.

“Almost,” Michael groaned, pulling away from Luke to facilitate his search, and Luke knew he’d found it when Michael’s entire body twitched, his hole tightening around Luke’s fingers, a loud gasp dropping from his mouth.

“Yeah?” Luke asked, grinning, and Michael nodded, quickly, so Luke prodded the spot again. Michael pushed back into his fingers, looking over his shoulder at Luke, his eyes heavily-lidded, half-closed, lips parted and colored dark pink from kissing.

“Want to try again?” Luke asked, barely spreading his fingers so Michael would know what he meant.

“Yeah,” Michael answered before Luke even finished answering the question, so he spread his fingers gradually, parting them a little, bringing them back together, and then parting them just a bit further each subsequent time. Michael shuffled his feet as far apart as they would go, his jeans not providing nearly enough give for it, but Luke could tell he was ready, or nearly so. He looked down at Michael’s hole, stretched around his fingers, taking all three of them so, so easily, then pulled them out.

“Luke,” Michael whined at the emptiness, but Luke leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the nape of Michael’s neck, and this time, he didn’t give a fuck if he sounded like a sentimental shithead using a cutesy name.

“Soon, baby,” he said, and Michael took a deep breath at that—this time, he’d heard it, and he _liked_ it. Luke rubbed Michael’s lower back with his clean hand, then reached back behind himself and dug his fingers into his jeans pocket, plucking out the condom he’d also tucked in there. He tore the package open and rolled it onto his stiff cock, biting his lip as he made sure it was on properly.

Michael fidgeted in front of him, hating not only how empty he felt but Luke just not touching him at all anymore—he knew he was being impatient, but Luke had him so worked up, he _needed_ to come.

Luke took in how Michael was squirming, waiting to be given his dick, as he spread some lube over the condom, just to be sure it would be as easy to fuck him as possible. After a moment, he lined his dick up with Michael’s loose hole, and pushed against him, the slick head popping into him after a moment. Luke kept still as Michael whimpered at the feeling—it was bigger than his fingers, but the stretch felt _good_ , better than when he tried to finger himself, better even than Luke fingering him moments ago.

Placing his hands on Michael’s hips, Luke pulled his shirt up so his fingers could press against Michael’s bare skin; he gently rubbed his thumbs over Michael’s lower back, still working him through it as he slowly rolled his own hips, pushing his cock deeper into Michael.

“Fuck, so good,” Michael said, voice low, as Luke leaned over him, covering Michael’s back with his front.

“You feel fucking amazing,” Luke replied, smiling just a little, pressing his lips against the back of Michael’s shoulder, hoping he could feel them even through his shirt.

“So good,” Michael repeated, his eyes fluttering shut as Luke picked up the pace just a little, the lube enabling him to move in and out of Michael with little worry. He was still taking his time, but he was moving enough that Michael would be satisfied, yet still leisurely enough Luke wouldn’t hurt him.

Luke nuzzled Michael’s shoulder before straightening himself up again, pushing Michael’s shirt up even further so he could splay his hand out on Michael’s back. Michael arched away from him, just a little, pushing his ass back into Luke’s hips, and Luke groaned at the movement—it changed the angle of his dick inside of Michael, the pressure around him increasing as Michael squeezed down on him. They both groaned the other’s name, Luke loud and Michael quiet, though he grew louder as Luke leaned into him, fucking him deeper, draping himself over Michael’s back to nose at his cheek, wanting to kiss him as best he could.

Michael ground his ass back against Luke’s hips, clenching his ass down on his cock, and turned his head when he felt Luke’s tongue lick over his jawbone; it was an awkward angle, but Luke’s height allowed for their lips to meet, kissing filthy and sloppy as Luke barely pulled out of Michael just to fuck back in, burying himself as deep as he could inside of him. The tightness and heat around him was bringing Luke closer and closer to his orgasm, and even though he knew Michael had to be nearing his as well, Luke moved his right hand down from Michael’s side to rest on his stomach, just above his cock.

“Do it,” Michael demanded, voice low, wound up, as Luke’s left hand moved over his front, too, beneath his shirt, palm grazing his stomach and chest, finally stopping to just hold Michael against him. “Do it,” Michael said again, the fingertips of Luke’s right hand pressing against his abdomen until finally, he pulled his hand away only to wrap it around Michael’s length and stroke him.

That was fucking all Michael needed—he came after a few passes of Luke’s hand, dirtying the side of the file cabinet and Luke’s fingers, come smearing over his dick as Luke kept his hand moving over him. Michael was panting against Luke’s lips, his ass squeezing down on Luke, and with one final thrust of his cock into Michael, Luke spilled too, his short breaths mixing with Michael’s, both of them in sync, eyes closed, bodies entwined together.

“Luke,” Michael whispered, and without even opening his eyes, Luke pressed his lips to Michael’s, kissing him as they both felt their heartbeats slowing down, returning to normal; Luke slid his hand over to the left side of Michael’s chest, feeling his heart thrumming against his palm. He smiled and pulled away, hands both coming to rest on Michael’s hips as he slowly, carefully, pulled out of him.

Michael leaned against the file cabinet for a moment, collecting himself as Luke remove the condom, tying it off and looking around for a wastebin—thankfully, there was one in the corner, so he shuffled over to it and shoved it deep down beneath shredded papers. By the time he’d turned around, Michael had dressed himself in silence, so Luke did the same, tucking himself back into his underwear.

They locked eyes after Luke shimmied back into his jeans, holding each other’s gaze for a moment before huge smiles split both of their faces, and Michael moved over to Luke, kissing him without a second thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [maybeillfindyouhere](http://maybeillfindyouhere.tumblr.com) • Come say hi!
> 
> _Title from "Mattresses Underwater" by Colour Revolt._


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